


The Only Kinktober Challenge I Ever Completed

by Lani



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Drugged Sex, Kinktober, M/M, Service Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lani/pseuds/Lani
Summary: The prompt was "aphrodisiacs".Santino gets caught up with some vampires who share very interesting drugs with him during a party. Eric has to fix it.





	The Only Kinktober Challenge I Ever Completed

“Do you want some more?”

Her voice drifted to him through a thick wall of fog. His vision was a tapestry of shifting reds and blooming shadows, all conspiring to disorientate him entirely. No matter how he blinked against the torch lights, he couldn’t focus. A sluggish, drowsy part of him wasn’t trying particularly hard either. He was far too comfortable in his haze. Cool, soft hands were stroking his chest and massaging his shoulders. Another pair was combing through his hair with gentle fingers. Someone had unbuttoned his stained white shirt to get to the expanse of his torso, obscured by coarse black hair. Each touch turned another part of his body into a leaden weight he couldn’t think to move.

Santino could still taste the traces of the strange concoction on his tongue. The petite Hungarian vampire had fed it to him from a silver cup, poured the thick blood straight into his mouth. Blood, yes, warmed by fire, not body heat, but blood. And something else, too, something spicy and bitter, something sharp that stung his lips like the pricks of a rose. Ever since the first mouthful had passed his lips he had lost all track of time. However, he could still hear the faint banging of kettle drums and the howling immortal voices of other blood drinkers outside. The celebration was still in full swing then. He didn’t need to worry. No, just open his mouth and receive the drink again, let it fill him up.

“You’ll feel so good, handsome. Drink up.” She cooed and purred.  

He had made no response that he could recall but again she pressed the cup to his lips, the strong herbal fumes nearly blinding him. One of her sisters was spreading kisses along his shoulder, so sweet they elicited a low sigh from him. Their male consort, a blood drinker formed like a young Turkish man, had come to settle behind him, his lap serving as a pillow for the Italian to rest against. He was ceaselessly playing with Santino’s hair, caressing him into submission. Persuaded, Santino let his tongue flick out to test and taste. It was the same mixture, that much was for certain, but stronger somehow. Hotter. _Burning_.

She tipped the drink into his mouth and he swallowed at once, too overcome to protest. The flavors were familiar to him now, but the heat took his breath away. Liquid fire was running down his throat. Open-mouthed, greedily sucking in the cool night air, Santino began to claw his way free of the four tempters. His entire body was tensing, every muscle drawn taut like a bowstring waiting for release. A surge of adrenaline, of pure unbridled energy, drove him into motion, forcing him to rise. But there were the iron hands on him, gripping his arms and winding around his shoulders, to keep him in place while a concerto of humming voices lulled him into complacency, assuring him that all was well, that he just needed to relax and enjoy.

His eyesight had forsaken him, yielding nothing but blurred patterns and exploding stars. He was so hot. So very hot. He had to get out of these clothes, out of the very skin he wore. He thought he would melt. Every push of blood through his veins was torture of the highest order. He found himself spasming against his captors’ stroking hands as the first wave of heat in him crested and broke. The aftermath left him shivering, panting. Warmth hummed in his muscles and ears, drowning out the world that existed somewhere outside of the embracing arms that held him down. He could hear his pulse more clearly than the music outside.

Everything he felt was somehow more acute, more immediate. The weight of foreign bodies sent shocks of electricity to his nerves until his hairs stood on end. Every caress left him starving for more. He felt their mouths like coals they pressed against his skin; palms were burning their imprints into his flesh. A pair of stone-smooth hands stroked his cheeks, tilting up his head. The dreamy haze that had hooded his eyes and dulled his gaze was utterly eradicated. Now his stare was fixed and feral, reduced to animal lust. A smiling face looked back at him, delighting in his helpless arousal. The brown-haired woman wiped a drop of blood off his lip and licked it off the pad of her thumb. Just to watch her moving lips, the tip of her tongue, nearly drove him out of his mind. Something was burning inside him, and oh god, he had to share this heat with someone, anyone. He jerked against the hands that held him, the only thing that kept Santino from lunging for the divine creature he saw before him. He barely recognized more than the shining pallor of her skin, her soft yielding skin, and the finely sculpted curves of her body.

Before he could wrestle free, or else direct his attention to the male that was keeping his arms very invitingly locked around his neck, something else happened. Where the sultry smile of his torturer had gleamed at him, there was suddenly nothing. A blur passed over him, no more than a soft breeze splaying against his heated skin. Then the two women that held his arms apart were gone as well. Santino slumped forward, tensing at once. Behind him a rustle of clothing, a subdued gasp, was all that told of the disappearance of his fourth companion.

Santino slunk forward, red pounding in his head and in his veins. His muscles strained painfully as his need went unaddressed again and blotted out all else. He could barely think straight, let alone walk. He reached blindly for one of the pillows that lay strewn around him to press against it. His hips pumped, searching for any kind of friction, anything to relieve the terrible burning need he felt. His mind was turning into mush with every passing moment, dripping away one thought at a time. He groaned and panted, cursing under his breath. Just a little closer, a little more--

“Oh, Tino.”

The voice was enough of a surprise to shock him out of his fever for a moment. Santino’s head whipped around, searching for the source. And there he was already, Eric, kneeling down to gently pull him away from his desperate rutting. “You never look before you jump. Come here.”

A drunk smile budded on Santino’s lips when he saw who had come to his rescue. At once he made to wrap his arms around the ancient, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. “Eric,” He breathed his scent, the mingling of spilled blood and smoke. He smelled so good, so calm and cool. It sent shivers down his spine to finally feel embraced, feel the heartbeat of another. Eric could douse the fire that was burning him up. He just had to get closer. “Thank God you’re here. I need you. I need you so much. No one else, no one. I’ll do anything.”

He pulled himself up on Eric’s body, feverishly searching for a cheek, a neck. He planted hot open-mouthed kisses on his throat, fangs scraping dangerously across the smooth skin. It felt like licking honey off a marble statue. Eric made the most delicious sound, half surprise, half excitement _. Yes, yes! This and more! So much more!_ Santino’s hands went like claws into his lover’s hair, curling tight for leverage. All his weight pushed against the other, trying to force him down, bury him beneath his own body, have him right there on the floor. But his lover was not some breakable fledgling he could overpower at his whim. Eric saw what he was doing and restrained him with his arms like vises, pushing back. He didn’t make a dent in Eric’s balance. The sheer presence of so much power so close to him let Santino shudder.

“Geez, what did they give you?” Soft laughter caressed his ear. He felt himself almost lifted off the ground, pushed back into the cushions that piled up behind him. Santino blinked against the blurring lights, sprawled out before his companion who was little more than a dark silhouette to him. “Let’s see what we’re working with here.” Eric crouched down over him, his fondly amused face framed by brown curls that made him look like something out of an oil painting. With deft fingers he opened Santino’s shirt entirely, doing away with it at once, and gave his pants a hard tug.

Santino’s erection sprung free at once, coming to rest against his abdomen. His entire body was at the height of drugged excitement, straining for release. Faint pink dusted his cheeks, cushioning his lust-crazed stare. With how his tousled hair cascaded over his shoulders, he could have passed for a particularly debauched act model. An invisible weight sat on his chest so that all he could do was twitch and whine whenever Eric ceased his subtle caresses on his thighs. His hips bucked and ground against the air.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Santino’s voice was distorted with neediness. He couldn’t even pretend to be ashamed of his state. All he wanted was Eric’s mouth, Eric’s hands, Eric’s ass. And blood, fuck! His blood, too! He was dizzy with hunger. He could eat him whole. “Fuck, please. It’s so hot. I can’t take it--”

Eric had listened to all this, both spoken and unspoken, of course, and there was no doubt that seeing Santino in such desperate need for him was exciting him. Santino could tell. He felt the growing bulge press through his pants when he slid into place on top of Santino’s thighs. He could see the budding hunger, the arousal.

“You’re doing so well, shh now.” The ancient’s voice was velvety, sweet. “You’re with me, you’re safe. Just let go. We’ll take care of your little problem.” Eric’s words slipped into his mind, searching for crevices to fill. They meant to soothe and calm, but Santino couldn’t be soothed. Any moment he wasn’t in Eric’s arms was torture. A cool hand suddenly took hold of him, wrapping around the length of his cock. Santino downright flinched with the onslaught of pleasure that crashed into him from the simple touch. It nearly drove tears into his eyes to feel Eric’s skilled, beautiful, _perfect_ fingers stroking him. A strangled moan was all he could articulate before another hand came up to his chest to sharply pinch his nipple. This was all it took to drive Santino over the edge. He came hard, hips pumping to no avail. Heat rushed to blind him, the peak so goddamn close. But in the end, he fell short of bliss. Eric let him ride it out, all the way to its dissatisfying end.

There was no doubt that his lover could see the despair, the panic in his eyes. Santino writhed beneath the elder, no less eager than before, no less starved. The comedown was cold and harsh, and he felt the flames under his skin twist diabolically. “Eric, Eric—” He stuttered senselessly, his eyes distant and confused. The drugged blood was hard at work in him.

“I know, Santo, I know. I’m here, pup. Just be good for me a little longer.” Eric shifted over him, slotting his body against his. The friction let Santino see stars. He clung fast to him, burying his face in his companion’s neck. There he heard him clearly. He could smell the beckoning blood, pounding in time with Eric’s pulse, aching to be released. Meanwhile Eric kept whispering in his ear, more agitated now, more insistent: “Drink it. Drink all you want. Take what you need. I want you to. You deserve it. I know it must be so hard for you. Now take it.”

Eric ground against Santino’s bucking hips, forcing them down against the cushions. There was nothing of submission in the words he said. It was a command. And Santino, who was so without direction, gladly obeyed his every whim. With a thankful whimper, he did as he was told.

Santino’s fangs were heavy in his mouth, pulsing with an ache of their own. He almost came again the second he finally got to sink them deep into Eric’s neck. If only he could bury his cock in him just as easily. The thought was gone as soon as it came, washed away by the first mouthful of ancient blood. He drew hard at the wound, tearing it open with savage need. Blood gushed into his mouth and he greedily lapped it up. Santino didn’t doubt that the noises he made were nothing short of obscene. He groaned and grunted against Eric’s throat, drinking with abandon as he rolled his hips in time with the draughts he took. There was Eric’s hand in his hair, but it didn’t pull him away, no. It tightened its grip almost painfully, all to keep him there. The gasps and sighs of his lover were like music to his ears, high-pitched and melodic compared to the animalistic sounds Santino had been reduced to in his craze. Finally it was Eric who came undone, whose breath hitched and who stammered for more. He could hear it so clearly even if his lover didn’t say a word.

_Yes, yes, yes—Harder, fuck! Santo, oh god. More, I need more._

Santino forced his hand between their bodies, aggressively fumbling with Eric’s pants until he tore whatever mechanism kept him from undoing them. He tugged them down just enough with Eric’s help. Now there was some rummaging in the dark, a brief intermission which Santino left to Eric who had experience and practice, as opposed to Santino’s less refined methods. He didn’t care. He could wait, now that he was gorging himself. His world barely consisted of more than his companion’s body and the blood that filled his mouth.

Finally, Santino slid into his lover, their bodies naturally fitting one another like clasping hands. It was all he could have hoped for. Eric’s blood, Eric’s body. That was all he wanted to live on. Pleasure flooded his body like a tidal wave, coming to quench the fires that had been eating him up from the inside out. It coiled in his stomach and burst forth, knocking the air out of his lungs and arching his spine until he was drawn and quartered by gratitude. There was nothing else, nothing more than this. The night was still long.

* * *

 

_“—Seriously, what did they give you?”_

_“I don’t know, I told you. I was already half-gone when they cornered me.”_

_“Oh yes, you looked very cornered.”_

_“Did I appear very rational to you, yes?”_

_“No different than usual, really.”_

_“Wow.”_


End file.
